


in the absence of the sun

by vizslasaber



Series: our need for roots [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Family Reunions, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Master & Padawan Relationship(s), Obi-Wan Kenobi Gets a Hug, Obi-Wan Kenobi Needs a Hug, Original Character(s), POV Multiple, Planet Stewjon (Star Wars), Planet Stewjon is Space Scotland, Protective Ahsoka Tano, Protective Anakin Skywalker, Sibling Bonding, Stewjoni Culture (Star Wars), Timeline What Timeline, and anakin ships it, defenstrating canon as per usual, minor ahsoka tano/original female character, slightly oc-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:20:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28151544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vizslasaber/pseuds/vizslasaber
Summary: "Master," Anakin says suddenly as they approach the large hangar bay doors. "Do you... remember your mother at all?"Obi-Wan turns his head sharply. "What?" he replies, just as a thought comes floating to the surface of his mind, made of hot desert sands and kind smiles and goodbye hugs, years ago when he still had someone to turn to (but he never reallycouldturn to Qui-Gon, could he, not when the man was too preoccupied with the mistakes he never had the chance to fix).Or: on a relief mission to Stewjon, Obi-Wan finds his roots.
Relationships: Anakin Skywalker & Ahsoka Tano, CC-2224 | Cody & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Ahsoka Tano, Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze (mentioned)
Series: our need for roots [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079477
Comments: 65
Kudos: 297





	1. gravity

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Roots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24543652) by [KCKenobi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KCKenobi/pseuds/KCKenobi). 



> i've been seeing lots of these "obi-wan meets his birth family" and couldn't resist the urge to write one myself, so here's my take on this relatively new idea. 
> 
> (also, i've never liked the headcanon that stewjon hates the jedi, because they're most likely apart of the republic given that they willingly gave over one of their citizens to the jedi order.)
> 
> this is my first star wars fic, so be gentle with me! enjoy!!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ahsoka asks questions, Cody gets his general out of a tight spot, and Obi-Wan hears something that makes him think he's dreaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> grav·i·ty • /ˈɡravədē/  
>  _noun_  
>  1\. the force that attracts a body toward the center of the earth, or toward any other physical body having mass.

Obi-Wan doesn't know what to say. 

Ahsoka is staring up at him, one white eyebrow quirked and her arms crossed over her chest. Anakin is, of course, no help; Cody and Rex just look amused. 

Instead of answering Ahsoka's question of whether or not he remembered anything from his homeworld, Obi-Wan simply turns towards the viewport and clasps his hands behind his back. "This is nothing more than a relief mission, young one," he concedes, trying his best not to sound dismissive. 

Still, Ahsoka doesn't look convinced. A smirk that could rival Anakin's permanent facial expression is starting to make an appearance, and Obi-Wan feels his heart sink; he'll never hear the end of this. 

"Do you at least know which city you were born in?" Ahsoka presses, and Obi-Wan's jaw tightens. 

_She's only curious,_ he reminds himself, reaching up to stroke his beard. 

"No," Obi-Wan lies easily. "My créche master... never told me." 

"Really?" Anakin calls skeptically from his spot next to Rex by the navicomputer. "I seem to remember the créche masters being pretty lenient about that." 

Pressing his lips together, Obi-Wan stares out of the viewport and down at the lush green planet they're steadily approaching. It's far greener than Colstev, the only other planet in the system, but has less water. The green reminds Obi-Wan of Qui-Gon's lightsaber; he blinks, and his eyes sting. 

Cody, Maker bless his soul, seems to notice that Obi-Wan is starting to enjoy this conversation less and less; the commander steps forward, holding a holoprojector in both hands. "Sir, permission to give the briefing?" 

Holding back his sigh of relief, Obi-Wan waves a hand in the universally recognized gesture for _go ahead._ Cody nods and sets the holoprojector on the table in the center of the bridge. 

"Alright, listen up," Cody says promptly, and Obi-Wan keeps his eyes firmly trained on the viewport, though he can see the reflection of the hologram behind him in the transparisteel. "Stewjon is a lot more well-off than Colstev, but our intel says there'll still be some shifty characters running around, so keep your eyes open." The commander waves a hand over the holomap, and it zooms in, stopping at the edge of the projected city. "This landing pad right here is where we'll be setting the transport down; the cruiser will stay in orbit until we're done." 

"And don't forget," Obi-Wan hears himself add, "this is nothing more than a relief mission. We're only staying in the heart of the city for five standard rotations, so we'd best be quick with handing out supplies. I imagine the civilians will be in a rush to get back to their homes." 

"General," calls one of the clones from beside the flight computer. "We're beginning the landing sequence." 

"Keep at it," Obi-Wan replies, not taking his eyes off of the swirling greens and blues below them. "We'll be there within the hour." 

━━━━━━ 

He shouldn't be this nervous. It's a _relief_ mission, for Force's sake; their only goal is to get food and clothing to the near-starving citizens of Stewjon. Besides, the chances of finding—

Obi-Wan draws in a deep breath and rolls his tense shoulders, but it does nothing to calm his nerves. Behind him, Ahsoka is helping Kix distribute medical supplies to civilians, and Anakin is talking to the Senator of Nova Spheris, Stewjon's capital city (that, Obi-Wan thinks dimly, should be his job). 

The weather is temperate; mild, even. As he stands behind a table with crates of food and blankets in the town square, handing out packages to desperate hands, Obi-Wan keeps the same kind smile on his face that he's been wearing for the past hour. The breeze ruffles Obi-Wan's perfectly combed hair and for once he can't bring himself to mind. This mission is far more peaceful than the ones he's been going on for the past year or so, and the absence of blaster fire and shouting is welcome but unfamiliar. 

The Senator who'd shown them around had called this place a town square, but it can hardly be called that. Instead of duracrete, the roads are made out of tightly packed dirt, the buildings are run-down and old-fashioned looking, and the local school building looks more like a sports center.

Still, Obi-Wan knows from the looks directed at his scratched armor and the lightsaber clipped to his belt, that the rest of the galaxy is skeptical of the Jedi. _Peacekeepers_ , they call themselves as they race to the front lines of battle after battle. Obi-Wan can barely resist the urge to scoff to himself.

Rex and Cody, both of whom are calling instructions to other clone troopers ("Bring a few blankets over here!" and "No, wrong food pack! The other one!"), look out of place but pleased with the good they're doing for the civilians.

The very civilians that look at Obi-Wan with the same sort of reverence that the younglings at the Temple do. Anakin and Ahsoka, though, are as friendly as ever. They smile, shake hands, receive compliments and expressions of gratitude. Obi-Wan does the same, but it feels forced. This is an act of kindness, but Obi-Wan was never as good at talking to people as Qui-Gon or Satine. 

Of course, he's had to learn, because now Jedi are diplomats as well as warriors. This mission, like any relief or humanitarian mission, is bound to involve some sort of diplomacy, or at least an interaction with a politician or two. 

Anakin looks like he understands, though. He's always been good at that, and Obi-Wan feels a pinprick of guilt make its way into his heart at the notion of pushing all the political responsibilities on his former Padawan, but the line of people is much longer than he anticipated. 

The dark-haired man that Obi-Wan had been helping mere seconds ago thanks him one last time and walks away, letting the next person in line approach the table. Obi-Wan presses several buttons on his datapad, marking down his progress while simultaneously gathering another rations pack. 

"Sorry, just a moment," he says distractedly. When Obi-Wan finishes typing a report, he looks up to find a middle-aged woman staring expectantly at him. She's thin, harrowingly so, much like the rest of the people Obi-Wan's given food to. 

"I'm in a bit of a hurry," the woman bristles, sounding only half-apologetic as she glances towards the sky, where the sun is just beginning to set. 

"Right, terribly sorry," Obi-Wan replies, handing her a folded blanket and a bag of food, just like the ones he's given to the other civilians. "Have a nice evening." 

"You too," the woman says, taking the supplies from his hands. They make eye contact, and suddenly Obi-Wan is standing back on the ship, staring out of a viewport at a lush green planet with flecks of blue. Everyone here has the same eye colour, and it's the strangest thing he's ever seen. 

The woman turns around, her chin-length brown hair rustling in the breeze, and briskly walks away just as Ahsoka approaches Obi-Wan from behind and leans against the table so she faces him. 

"Well, that's it for today," she says, tapping the screen of her own datapad. "We handed out around all one hundred crates. I just talked to Vaughn; he says we'll bring the next shipment with us to the surface tomorrow." 

"Thank you, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan answers kindly. "Tell Captain Vaughn—" 

A series of shouts from across the street make Obi-Wan stop, and he looks up at the same instant as Ahsoka does. He scans the area, a hand drifting down to his lightsaber, but stops when his eyes land on a gravball court. There, a group of teenagers are shouting good-naturedly as they use outdated hoverboots to jump in the air, taking turns hitting a ball over a net. The group is made up of eight or nine teenagers, all around Ahsoka's age. 

The thought makes Obi-Wan glance back at the girl. She's staring at the gravball court with a wistful expression on her face, and Obi-Wan feels Ahsoka's shields evaporate as she watches the teenagers play and shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

"They look so... young," Ahsoka finally murmurs. "It's weird to think they're only around my age."

"Well," says Anakin, coming up to stand behind them, "war tends to make you look older." He smirks, and Obi-Wan knows what's coming before it does. "Just look at Obi-Wan's hair."

"At least I take care of it," Obi-Wan shoots back, suddenly feeling lighter despite Anakin's jab. "Unlike _someone_." 

Ahsoka reaches up and absent-mindedly traces one of the blue lines on her lek, and though the yearning in her eyes doesn't completely fade, her lips twitch with the beginnings of a smile. "Lucky I don't have to worry about graying, then," she says, her eyes still on the gravball court. 

Obi-Wan shakes his head, and from Anakin's exasperated look, he knows his former Padawan has already guessed what he's about to say. "There's no such thing as—" 

A sudden chime, identical to the one that so often comes from his comlink, echoes above them and cuts Obi-Wan's predictable sentence in two. The funny thing about this chime, though: it's _loud_ , so loud that Ahsoka claps both hands over her montrals and Anakin visibly flinches. The sound makes Obi-Wan feel inexplicably small, but it also makes him want to roll his eyes, because this planet seems to have a knack for interrupting him. 

"What was that?" Anakin demands, narrowing his eyes as more chimes ring out. No one answers as the chimes continue, stopping at seven chimes in total.

Obi-Wan stands up and takes a few steps forward, crossing his arms over his chest as he surveys the strangely old-fashioned buildings. His eye caught on a large hologram above the roofs that projected the time (about oh-seven hundred in the evening). That must have been the source of the chimes... but town clocks were rare nowadays, and hardly used in the Republic. 

Across the street, the teenagers have resumed their gravball game, seemingly unperturbed by the chiming clock. Why Obi-Wan's focus keeps drifting to that particular area of the town, but something about it seems livelier than all the other places they've seen since arriving on this planet. 

"Sir," says Cody from behind Obi-Wan (how he always knows it's Cody will forever be beyond him). "The transport's here. We've got to hurry—the cruiser'll be out of range soon." 

"Wait, we're not staying on the surface tonight?" Ahsoka asks, sounding a touch disappointed. 

"There's no hotel big enough to house all of us, kid," Cody replies with a chuckle, gesturing over his shoulder to the clones loading empty crates onto a transport ship.

"And we mustn't take what little food they have left," Obi-Wan adds, giving Ahsoka a pointed look. 

Ahsoka only shrugs before jogging past Cody to help several troopers close the doors of the ship's cargo hold. She's smiling, now, and Obi-Wan glances at Anakin, whose eyes are on his laughing Padawan. 

"It's good for her," Anakin says suddenly, his eyes not leaving the spot where Ahsoka and Rex are standing. "Helping people, I mean." 

Humming in agreement, Obi-Wan moves out from behind the table and waits for Anakin to follow him. The transport is next to the gravball court, but crossing the street is nothing like doing so in Coruscant—in all the hours that they've been on Stewjon, Obi-Wan hasn't seen a single speeder. He knows it's a poor planet, but it's surprising, and a far cry from the busy streets he's used to. 

As the two of them approach the transport, Obi-Wan half expects the teenagers on the court to stop their game and stare at the Jedi, but if anything, the excited whoops just get louder. From where he's standing, Obi-Wan can see how thin the players really are, just like everyone else in the city. Sports, he thinks ruefully, do nothing for health if there's no food. 

"I think kids might be louder on Stewjon," Anakin muses, following Obi-Wan's line of sight. 

"Or maybe," Obi-Wan replies, shaking his head, "the children at the temple are just more well-behaved." 

Anakin snorts and says something about _have you_ _met the younglings?_ Obi-Wan simply rolls his eyes, and they walk the rest of the way to the transport in silence. When they climb the ramp to board the transport and start to sit down, Ahsoka's talking to Waxer and Boil.

Just as the ramp starts to fold into the ship, Obi-Wan hears a shout from the gravball court, then sees a flash of red hair dart over the net before cheers erupt from all the teenagers. It's a moment before he registers the words, but when he does, they echo in his mind for the rest of the ride back to the cruiser and keep him up for the remainder of the night.

_"Hey, Kenobi! Pass the ball here!"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are always appreciated <3  
> i'm on tumblr @viszlasaber if you want to talk!


	2. friction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan paces to cope with anxiety, Anakin doesn't do much to help, and Ahsoka makes a new friend (or something more).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fric·tion • /ˈfrikSH(ə)n/  
>  _noun_  
>  1\. the resistance that one surface or object encounters when moving over another.

The transport back to the planet's surface is set to depart in less than an hour, and Obi-Wan can't stop pacing. 

It's routine at this point: when he's stressed or anxious or anything other than content, Obi-Wan paces. He turns on his heel, walking back and forth, one arm crossed over his chest and the other reaching up to stroke his beard. Anakin calls it "thinking with his chin" but in reality, it's what Obi-Wan does to distract himself from his thoughts. 

He knows both Anakin and Ahsoka are watching him. They're standing in the entrance to the bridge, and Obi-Wan can see them both out of the corner of his eye, surveying him with skeptical expressions. He can see Ahsoka whisper something to Anakin—a question, most likely—but Obi-Wan can't bring himself to care about what she's saying in the slightest.

Twelve hours, give or take, have passed since the transport had docked on the cruiser. Obi-Wan slept for less than half of those hours, but he's fueled by three cups of caf and his swirling, stifling thoughts. 

The shout ("Hey, Kenobi! Pass the ball here!") keeps echoing in his ears, drowning out the sound of his rapidly beating heart, even after half a rotation. 

Then, over the intercom, a voice identical to that of all the clones calls: _"Transport departing shortly, please proceed to hangar bay six..."_

Obi-Wan tunes out the rest and checks his timepiece, brushing an invisible speck of dust from his sleeve. He draws in a deep breath and approaches Anakin, who is now sans Padawan and evidently waiting for Obi-Wan. 

"Where's Ahsoka?" Obi-Wan asks, and Anakin gestures wordlessly to the hallway that leads to the ship's hangar. He, too, seems deep in thought, but Anakin rarely responds to his old master's prompts about his thoughts, so Obi-Wan leaves it alone. 

"Master," Anakin says suddenly as they approach the large hangar bay doors. "Do you... remember your mother at all?" 

Obi-Wan turns his head sharply. "What?" he replies, just as a thought comes floating to the surface of his mind, made of hot desert sands and kind smiles and goodbye hugs, years ago when he still had someone to turn to (but he never really could turn to Qui-Gon, could he, not when the man was too preoccupied with the regrets he never had the chance to fix). 

"Just wondering," Anakin brushes off, but Obi-Wan knows the nonchalance in his tone is forced; he can hear the strain in his former Padawan's voice. It's how he speaks when he's thinking of his past. "You know, since..." Anakin gives Obi-Wan a pointed look. "Since we're here, and all." 

Pressing his lips together, Obi-Wan crosses his arms over his chest, not bothering to give Anakin his usual exasperated look as they board the transport and sit down. He straps himself in, then leans his head against the back of his chair and closes his eyes. 

He still doesn't know who the shout was meant to be heard by.

He isn't sure he wants to, either. 

Because maybe— _maybe_ , even if he knows it isn't so—someone on the gravball court had known his name. Maybe the ball had rolled somewhere near his feet. Maybe it had all just been his imagination, and Obi-Wan is worrying over nothing, hoping that he would find something on this malnourished planet that could distract him from the war.

 _Concentrate on the moment,_ chides a voice that sounded annoyingly similar to Qui-Gon. _Focus on the here and now_. 

━━━━━━

The journey into the atmosphere is anti-climactic. It wasn't that Ahsoka had never been to space; she spends the majority of her time on starships, cruising through the galaxy and plunging headfirst into battles she doesn't really want any part in. 

But the funny thing about Stewjon's atmosphere: it's quiet. There's no rumbling as the ship starts to descend, no heat-soaked friction on the large durasteel framework. Reflexively, Ahsoka grips the belt keeping her in place, but there's no need to do so. The feeling borders on uncomfortable—why is there no drag? Does the silence mean that the ship is about to combust?

Across from her, Rex seems to notice Ahsoka's anxiety, because he smiles at her softly. Ahsoka returns the gesture, but it does nothing to ease her tension.

The re-entry is long, as usual, but so, so silent. Ahsoka wonders if this is another hint that Obi-Wan is more like his home planet than she'd originally thought. He, too, is quiet and reserved until he has no choice but to be otherwise. 

What, Ahsoka wonders absently, is the science behind this? Is it worth worrying about, or are her montrals just acting up again, stilling in their ability to pick up echoes because of this blasted and unpredictable thing called puberty? 

The pilot's voice makes Ahsoka look up. "Finishing re-entry in three... two..." 

She can barely contain her sigh of relief, and next to her, she sees Anakin's shoulders relax. Her Master turns to her, smiling slightly, and says, "Weird, huh?"

"Yeah," Ahsoka breathes, suddenly grateful for Anakin's perceptiveness. "Really weird."

"Every atmosphere is different," Obi-Wan chimes in from Ahsoka's other side. "Thankfully, this one's breathable." 

The rest of their descent is smooth and silent, save for Anakin's occasional comment, most prudent of which is _why is this taking so long?_

Ahsoka elects to ignore him. Every atmosphere, and every planet that lies underneath, is different. Like Obi-Wan said. 

As the ship starts to approach the surface, Ahsoka spares a glance at the auburn-haired man to her left. He looks pale, uncomfortably so, and Ahsoka isn't the only one who's noticed it. Cody, from his place next to Rex, is eyeing the general with a look almost like concern. The expression is identical to the one Obi-Wan so often casts at his own soldiers, always worrying about others before himself, overexerting himself like it's a normal thing to do. It's enough to make Ahsoka worry about Obi-Wan, a man who's seventeen years her senior, as though a parent or an older sibling would. 

She supposes she knows how he feels, what with visiting homeworlds and all. When they'd visited Kiros, Ahsoka hadn't been able to stop searching the faces of the Togruta colonists for markings that looked anywhere similar to her own, even though she'd known perfectly well that her homeworld was Shili, not Kiros. 

It's different, but it also isn't.

"Hey, Snips," Anakin says, and Ahsoka realizes with a start that they've landed and the engines are powering down. Anakin pokes her shoulder; he's standing now, looking down at Ahsoka, who's the only one still sitting. "We've brought all the crates outside. Quit slacking." 

Ignoring her Master's teasing smirk, Ahsoka unbuckles her safety belt and stands up. She can hear the clamour of Stewjoni citizens outside, and pictures them reaching for food while Cody, Rex, and Obi-Wan kindly hand out rations. When she walks down the ramp, Ahsoka sees she's right; Obi-Wan is showing a young fair-haired boy how to securely close a canteen while Cody is hefting another crate onto the table for Rex to open. 

Seeing the people of Stewjon, with their bony hands and too-defined cheekbones, makes Ahsoka's stomach clench with sympathy. She shuffles over to Rex and takes out a stack of folded blankets; they're slightly scratchy but mostly soft, identical to the one in her quarters on the cruiser. Army blankets are warm, but so is Stewjon, so she can't fathom why the people would need it. 

Ahsoka's about to voice her question to Rex when she hears someone not far away hiss, "What do you think you're doing?" 

She turns, her eyebrows furrowed, but the question doesn't appear to have been directed at her. By the fence of the gravball court, Ahsoka sees two girls glaring at each other and narrows her eyes. 

"That's a stupid question," the younger girl says, and Ahsoka can't help but agree. The girl says something else, but her voice is drowned out by the chatter of civilians crowding around the table. 

Still, Ahsoka doesn't look away. The two girls look to be sisters; both have auburn hair and heavily freckled cheeks. The older one is facing in Ahsoka's direction; she's broad-shouldered, wearing a worn gravball jersey and a simple braid. The younger sister is standing with her back to Ahsoka, and is wearing a light pink dress the same colour as the headband resting on top of her exuberant curls. Their arguing is hushed, now, and Ahsoka can't hear what the girls are saying, but she sees the older girl reach for something in her sister's hands: a blanket. The little girl yanks it away with a glare, and Ahsoka realizes that they must be fighting over the blanket. 

Looking down, Ahsoka runs her hands over the semi-rough fabric of the blanket on the table in front of her. Surely they can spare just one, right? 

Yes, she decides, giving away an extra blanket can't hurt. 

Gathering the blanket in her arms, Ahsoka shoots a furtive glance in Obi-Wan and Anakin's direction before starting to walk towards the two girls. They keep arguing, and Ahsoka slows her pace to hear what the girls are saying.

"Mum said we could only have one!" the younger girl is saying indignantly. "You've already got a blanket, so this one's for _me_." 

"But mine is too small for me!" protests the older girl, and her exasperated tone is one Ahsoka thinks she's heard before. "I told you, it'd be smarter to trade, since my old blanket will fit you better—" The girl stops abruptly when Ahsoka comes nearer, and her sister turns around. 

"Um, hi," Ahsoka says hesitantly. "I... heard you arguing." She holds out the blanket in her arms, and the older girl's eyebrows shoot up. "Just thought you might want this." 

"Oh," the girl says, and glances at her younger sister, who looks equally surprised. "Thank you, but—" she shakes her head, and several copper strands escape her braid. "I can't accept that." 

"Why not?" the younger girl demands, and her older sister shoots her a furious glare. "She's offering it to you, Caela. Take it." 

Caela's jaw tightens. "I'm sure someone else needs it more than we do," she murmurs. "Again... thank you." 

"Are you sure you don't want it?" Ahsoka presses. 

The younger girl steps forward. "Ignore my sister," she says, and Ahsoka has to fight a smile. "She's too modest for her own good." The girl holds out a hand. "We'll take it." 

Ahsoka starts to hand the blanket to the girl. Caela looks conflicted as she shakes her head and sighs, "Eitaa, you're going to be the one to explain this to Mum." 

The little girl—Eitaa, apparently—sticks her tongue out at Caela before turning to Ahsoka. "Thank you again!" Eitaa says happily, then waves as she turns around to leave; her fiery ringlets bounce up and down as she runs off. "Come on, Caela! We've got to get going!" 

The girl in question, who's still standing across from Ahsoka, glances over her shoulder at her sister. "Coming!" she calls before turning back to Ahsoka and smiling gratefully. "Thanks. Really." 

"No problem," Ahsoka says. "I know what the Separatists did has been... hard on this area." 

"Hm," Caela replies, casting her eyes downwards. She swallows, then takes a deep breath as her eyes meets Ahsoka's once more. "The Separatists will take whatever they want, no matter who it hurts. It's no different with the coal mines here." 

"Well," Ahsoka begins awkwardly, "at least they're gone now." 

"All thanks to you." 

"Oh—no, that wasn't us," Ahsoka answers hurriedly. "That was a different squadron, they got here earlier because of the blockade—" 

Caela shrugs. "It's all the same to me," she dismisses. "To the people here, you're just the Republic. That's enough." Another call from her sister makes Caela roll her eyes. "Ugh—gotta go." 

"Right," Ahsoka says. "See you around?" 

"Of course," Caela replies, and suddenly their eye contact breaks as the girl's cheeks flush and she turns away. "Well... bye then." 

"Bye," Ahsoka breathes, wishing she could grab ahold of Caela's shoulders and swivel her back around so she can see what colour Caela's eyes really are. They can't be that green; it has to be her imagination. 

A beat of silence passes. Ahsoka doesn't realize she's staring at the ground, standing alone, until she hears Caela laugh from far away. It's different than any laugh Ahsoka's ever heard, and so musical she thinks it's wind chimes. Looking up, Ahsoka feels a smile start to form on her lips and does nothing to stop it as her eyes land on Caela's loose auburn braid. It's long, swept over her shoulder, and the exact same colour as—

Ahsoka's heart stops. 

There, printed on the back of Caela's gravball jersey, partially hidden by the plaited hair, is one word that makes Ahsoka blink and rub her eyes to make sure it's real. 

Because it's not a word, Ahsoka realizes after a moment, squinting at the printed Basic that rests on Caela's retreating shoulder blades. It's a name. 

A name she hears almost every day.

_Kenobi._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are always appreciated <3  
> i'm on tumblr @viszlasaber if you want to talk!


	3. collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin ropes Ahsoka into a scheme, Rex and Cody quietly disapprove, and Obi-Wan gets something returned to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> col·li·sion • /kəˈliZHən/  
>  _noun_  
>  1\. an instance of one moving object or person striking violently against another.

"Did you see that?" 

Ahsoka's voice is hushed, but it makes Anakin flinch nonetheless. His eyes are trained on the path that leads away from the gravball court. It's empty, now, but the image of the two girls retreating from view is burned into his mind's eye. 

_Kenobi,_ the jersey reads, printed just above the number nineteen. 

It has to be a school team, Anakin reasons in his head, because the girl is far too young to be playing professionally. From the back, Anakin can guess she's about fifteen standard, the same age as Ahsoka. 

Who is currently standing in front of him, her arms crossed and a look on her face that Anakin knows is an unconscious imitation of Padmé. 

"Master?" Ahsoka prods, but still gets no answer. She sighs. "Anakin! You saw that too, right?" 

Blinking rapidly, Anakin nods. He looks over his shoulder to see Cody, Rex, and Obi-Wan (Kenobi, the _only_ Kenobi, if anything he's ever known is true) all helping a group of citizens, then grabs Ahsoka by the elbow and pulls her farther away. He suddenly wishes that there was a wall or a tree or something to hide behind, so they don't look suspicious, but this will have to do. 

"Ow—what are you doing?" Ahsoka demands, but Anakin ignores her. 

"That girl, the one with the braid," he says hurriedly. "You were talking to her, right?" 

Ahsoka's eyes widen, and for a moment Anakin thinks he sees her cheeks flush, but it's gone as soon as it came. "Yeah, I thought you saw," his apprentice says slowly, as though carefully measuring out every word. 

"I did," Anakin replies. "But the—the jersey." He leaves this statement hanging in the air between them, and despite his lack of elaboration, Ahsoka seems to understand. 

"Do you think she could be related to..." Ahsoka moves her gaze to where Obi-Wan stands several meters away, still handing out rations with Rex and Cody.

"It's possible," Anakin says carefully. "More than possible." 

For a moment, as Ahsoka looks down as she ponders that answer, Anakin can almost tell what she's feeling. It's dim and fuzzy, made of disbelief and shock and confusion all packed together in a tiny, enclosed space. 

"But, you know," Anakin continues, an idea suddenly starting to cast warmth onto his skin, "Obi-Wan's private life isn't really our business." 

"What?" Ahsoka asks, her eyes widening to make room for incredulity. "Forget _our_ business! He's never even—" she stops suddenly when Anakin smirks. " _Oh_."

"You're catching on, my naïve young Padawan," Anakin says happily, ignoring Ahsoka's eye roll. "It's not Obi-Wan's business —" he grins, "—yet." 

"So, what you're saying is..." Ahsoka crosses her arms. "We have to _make_ it Obi-Wan's business?" 

"Definitely," Anakin affirms, looking over Ahsoka's shoulder at his old master, who's now helping a group of teenage boys separate their rations evenly. Obi-Wan still looks pale, and he's stroking his beard every so often, which means he's probably tormenting himself in his head. 

But if Anakin knows anything about his former master, it's that only the very best distraction will pull him from his self-destructive thoughts. 

A throat clear from behind him makes Anakin whip around to see Rex, who's looking annoyed but apprehensive to scold his General. Next to Rex stands Cody, whose exasperated expression is identical to the one Obi-Wan wears more often than not. 

"All due respect, sir," Rex begins, and Cody gives an almost inaudible sigh, "But I don't think General Kenobi would appreciate this... scheme." 

"You were listening?" Anakin demands. How could he not have noticed the troopers approaching? 

"No, sir," Cody answers, and Anakin tries not to let his relief show. "But we both saw the girl Commander Tano was talking to." Cody glances at Rex, then back at Anakin. "We saw her shirt." 

"Did Obi-Wan?" Ahsoka whispers.

"No, sir," Cody replies. "And..." he spares a furtive look at Rex. "And we think it should stay that way." 

━━━━━━ 

The midday weather on Stewjon reminds Obi-Wan of Coruscant during the springtime, with one notable difference: it's _cleaner_. Their transport is docked not too far away, but no one's gone inside since around an hour ago, when they'd finished handing out the second shipment of their relief crates. Everyone is too busy breathing in as much of this strangely fresh air as possible before they leave in four rotations.

Now, with nothing left to do except mill around the town square and watch Ahsoka jab playfully at Anakin, Obi-Wan stands with some of the other clone troopers —all of whom have removed their helmets—and let the soft breeze ruffle his hair gently. In his peripherals, he can see a flyaway strand of sun-soaked auburn, and for once he doesn't bother to push it away. 

"Pardon my intrusion," says a brogue voice from behind him, and Obi-Wan turns to see a tall, dark-skinned woman staring expectantly at him, "but are you Master Kenobi?" 

"Yes, that would be me," Obi-Wan tells the senator of the city. "I apologize for not being present at the introductions yesterday—" 

The senator waves a hand dismissively, and Obi-Wan doesn't have time to be surprised before she plows on. "Nonsense," she says happily, just as Obi-Wan remembers her name: Senator Cielon. 

"I was just leaving town hall and happened to see you without your comrades," the senator continues, shrugging, and Obi-Wan has to appreciate how refreshingly informal she is. "I understand you finished handing out resources to elderly citizens and families with children these past two days— honestly, Master Jedi, I cannot thank you enough." 

To this, Obi-Wan gives his rehearsed but genuine answer. "That is what we're here for, Senator," he assured her. 

"And it's a good thing, too," Senator Cielon answers, suddenly looking very small. "I... I don't know what we would have done without the Republic." She smiles. "Lucky that you and the troops arrived in time." 

Obi-Wan wants to point out that the troops responsible for stopping the occupation had been the Wolfpack, because Plo Koon and the 104th Battalion deserve all the credit they can get, but his diplomacy skills push that down. Instead, he just inclines his head politely and answers, "It could be more than just luck, Senator." 

Senator Cielon considers this, and as she studies him with piercing green-grey eyes, Obi-Wan shifts uncomfortably. "More than luck, indeed," she finally says, and there's a hint of complacency in her tone. "Why else would you, of all the Jedi in the Order, be sent here?" 

A pause. 

The world seems to still. 

"I'm sorry?" Obi-Wan asks mildly, clasping his hands behind his back so as not to show how hard they're trembling. 

A crease appears between the senator's eyebrows and she tilts her head just slightly. "Oh," she says. "I'd... assumed you were here to see your family." She shakes her head, but Obi-Wan barely notices. "I know it's not against the rules for you to visit them, so I just thought—" she cuts herself off and shakes her head. "Yes, I should have known, seeing as there wasn't—Oden-Ru and Nessa didn't mention—" She shakes her head, and Obi-Wan is too stunned to say anything as she walks away, still muttering to herself. 

He takes a deep, shuddering breath as he watches the senator retreat, then mulls the names she'd mentioned over in his head. Oden-Ru? Nessa? Are these people fellow politicians? Friends?

No, Obi-Wan decides. No, these names have to belong to someone who knows his... family. Or they actually _are_ his family. He doesn't want to think about which one is more likely.

A flash of maroon and blue makes Obi-Wan look up, and he spots Anakin and Ahsoka entering the open area through a gateway. Obi-Wan frowns. Weren't they just in the town square?

Pushing his previous thoughts far enough down that they can't bother him, Obi-Wan walks towards Anakin and his apprentice, raising an eyebrow. "And where have you two been?" 

"Sir, before you get the wrong idea," Cody suddenly pipes up, running up to him from the other direction with Rex in tow, "We tried to stop them."

Obi-Wan sighs heavily and pinches the bridge of his nose. "Anakin," he begins, and hears a snicker from Ahsoka, "What did you do?" 

Anakin clears his throat in the way he does when he's about to tell a thoroughly unconvincing lie, and then: "We were taking a walk."

"A walk," Obi-Wan says scathingly, "That Cody and Rex tried to stop you from partaking in." 

Ahsoka tugs anxiously at one of her lekku and turns away just slightly; the two troopers inch slightly closer to her, as though itching to hide behind the Padawan whose montrals barely reach their chins.

"We, um," Anakin says after a moment, "Didn't find anything." 

"What were you looking for?" Obi-Wan asks mildly.

"Nothing!" Ahsoka blurts, then flushes a dark vermillion colour.

"Padawan," Anakin hisses through his teeth, "What did we say about subtlety?" 

"Usually _I'm_ the one telling _you_ to be more subtle, not the other way around," Ahsoka shoots back. "So lay off." 

Narrowing his eyes, Obi-Wan crosses his arms across his chest. "You're hiding something," he decides. "Both of you." Turning to Rex and Cody, he then adds, " _All_ of you." 

Anakin scrubs a tired hand over his face and Obi-Wan is suddenly reminded of Qui-Gon, with his good-natured aversion to any sort of authority. This isn't the first time; Anakin is far too similar to Obi-Wan's old master for either of their likings, and they both know it.

"Anakin," Obi-Wan prods, and Ahsoka groans. 

"Okay, fine, fine!" she exclaims, throwing her hands up. "We... we wanted to find..." she trails off, opening and closing her mouth and looking painfully unsure of what to say. A few seconds later, Obi-Wan presses his lips together when he realizes what Ahsoka is trying to get across.

"A relative," Obi-Wan finishes tiredly. "You tried to find a relative of mine, didn't you?"

"Not exactly," Anakin finally concedes. "We sort of..." He clears his throat again, and Obi-Wan sets his jaw in annoyance; he's just about to scold his former student when Anakin finishes his sentence. "We sort of already found one."

"Two, actually," Ahsoka puts in, and the words hit Obi-Wan like a Kaminoan monsoon. 

They continue to bicker—Cody asks if they should be purposefully looking for distractions, Rex mutters something about _what did you expect_ —but Obi-Wan can only hear the ringing in his ears. It's like being underwater, unable to hear anything in complete clarity, only dimly aware of his surroundings. 

He's still standing, frozen, when Ahsoka makes a concerned noise that reminds Obi-Wan to breathe, then to regain his composure. _Treat it as you would treat a briefing,_ he urges himself. _Nothing more_. 

Obi-Wan clears his throat and breathes in through his nose. "Well," he finally says, trying to stop his thoughts from forming a tornado in his brain. "This is certainly a surprising development." 

"Ha," Anakin deadpans, taking no notice of Ahsoka's deeply conflicted expression. "Development. _Right_." 

"No matter," Obi-Wan continues, trying his very best to sound relaxed and very much _not_ curious. "They have their own lives to attend to." 

Anakin blinks, confused. "But... they're your family." 

"Not really," Obi-Wan says, lowering his voice. After a moment's hesitation, he adds: "Not the way the Jedi Order has been." The words he's thinking are left unsaid, but Obi-Wan can tell Anakin and Ahsoka understand the silent _not the way you have been_ by the way their gazes soften. 

"Still," Anakin presses. "Wouldn't it be nice to meet your blood relatives?" 

"I know I'd want to," Ahsoka adds unhelpfully, and instead of answering Anakin's question, Obi-Wan shoots the girl a Look. 

"You can't." Obi-Wan is vaguely aware of how tight his voice is, but he doesn't care. "Missions to one's homeworld are forbidden until Knighthood." 

Ahsoka huffs, not looking genuinely frustrated, but Obi-Wan feels a stab of sympathy.

He, too, had wanted to venture away and discover the life he could have had. For some time as a boy, Obi-Wan's daydreams had involved all sorts of different ideas about his birth family; about his mother, who he'd imagined was soft and warm, and his father, who he'd imagined had the same hair and eyes as him, and maybe even siblings, younger and older and _similar_. But there was no use getting caught up in all that, not when Master Qui-Gon had been all about focusing on the _here_ and _now_.

That lesson still repeats itself in Obi-Wan's mind sometimes, when his thoughts drift too far away for his liking. 

"General," Cody pipes up, making Obi-Wan blink. "There's an incoming holotransmission from the ship's bridge, sir." 

"Thank you, Cody," Obi-Wan replies, grateful for the temporary distraction as the commander pulls out a disk-shaped holoprojector. In seconds, blue light takes the form of Switch, the heavily scarred communications officer who can no longer fight on a battlefield. "Is everything alright, Switch?" he asks as a greeting, and the officer hesitates. 

"Not exactly, sir," Switch confesses. He glances at something out of range, then continues. "The electromagnetic fields in all the crusier's hangars are down. Our mechanics say it'll be over one rotation until we can fix them." 

"...Which means we won't be able to get back to the ship tonight," Anakin finishes with a sigh, his jaw tightening, and Switch nods. 

"Yes, sir," he says, and the hologram flickers slightly. "We've been trying our best to repair the field generators, but many of the materials needed to do so were sucked into space when the hangar bay was exposed." Switch adjusts the collar of his gray uniform and swallows. "It's slow work, General." 

Obi-Wan frowns and reflexively reaches up to stroke his beard, crossing his other arm over his chest. "I see," he says. "Thank you for telling us, Switch. You needn't worry about us finding a place to stay, we'll make do." 

Switch looks doubtful, but nods and gives a small salute before cutting off the transmission. The group stands in careful silence for a few minutes until it's punctured by Rex's heavy sigh. 

"We can make camp outside the transport," he decides, and no one objects, even if he's technically the lowest ranking person there. "I'll go tell the others." Rex walks off, making for the transport. 

"Wonderful," Anakin grumbles. "We're sitting mynocks, now." 

"And it's not even dark yet," Ahsoka adds, gesturing to the blue sky that holds a hint of pinkish-orange clouds. "This is going to be _so_ boring." 

Obi-Wan simply shakes his head. "Come," he says to the others. "Heading back to camp would be wise." He starts to turn around and start walking towards where their transport is docked, then stops and turns around. "And perhaps I can spare a story or two before we settle down." 

━━━━━━ 

"How many times do I have to tell you two to settle down?" 

Caela shoots a glare at her younger sister before turning to smile sheepishly at her mother, who was sitting across from her on the living room floor. "Only twice, Mum," she assures, setting the shirt she'd been folding on the pile next to her. "We're nearly done, anyway." 

Eitaa just giggles and tosses a sock Caela's way. "Still have to tackle the lonely sock bin," she points out. 

Their mother rolls her eyes. "Just get on with it," she sighs, then turns to glance over her shoulder into the with a frown. "What is he _doing_ out there?" 

Standing up to peer out of the front window, Eitaa shrugs. "Looks like he's checking the mail." 

"For ten minutes?" their mother asks. She, too, stands up, but instead going to open the front door and poke her head outside. "Oden-Ru! Come back inside, it's going to be dark soon!" 

The sound of the window being pulled open makes Caela look up to see Eitaa leaning out of the window, grinning wildly. "Yeah, Dad!" she shouts, her strawberry blonde curls flying every which way in the late afternoon breeze. "It's getting boring in here without you!" 

Breathing out a frustrated sigh, Caela rises to her feet and tugs her sister back inside before pushing the window shut again with a frown. "You need to be more careful."

"You need to be less boring," Eitaa counters. 

"Girls," says their father's voice, and they look up to see Oden-Ru closing the door behind him. "Can't you agree to disagree?" 

"No," Eitaa replies, Caela shakes her head in disdain before walking away, tuning out the sounds of her sister shouting, "Because she's a boring teenager!" 

_Boring_. Eitaa's favourite word, it seemed—but only when it was used as an insult. And usually directed at someone older than her. 

Curling a strand of hair behind her ear that had fallen loose from her unkempt braid, Caela starts to make her way down the hallway to her bedroom. Somewhere along the way, as her steps make the floorboards creak softly and the skylights in the hall cast golden light on the interior of their four-person home, Caela's thoughts drift to the girl she'd met earlier. A _Jedi_ , thinks Caela in silent awe, slipping into her room and sitting on her bed, running a hand over the coarse blanket the girl had given her. 

The girl. That is what Caela's mind calls her, because Jedi can't have siblings to yell at them during conversations with strangers, and neither of them had introduced themselves anyway. Wracking her brain, Caela tries to remember the name of the girl's species, or the planet she comes from. 

Grasslands, supplies Caela's vague memories of geography class. Somewhere in the Expansion Region, just outside where Stewjon was, in the Mid Rim. 

Shili, home to Togrutas. 

But that doesn't matter, Caela reasons, pulling at a loose thread on the blanket with a frustrated huff. The girl was from Coruscant, and would be returning soon—just like Caela's blanket. 

She'd decided to return it to the Jedi without Eitaa knowing as they had walked back home from the gravball court outside school. It's still the late afternoon, now, and only a five minute walk, so how hard can it be? 

━━━━━━ 

The gravball court had been silent when they'd returned to the transport. Now, the light in the sky was a pure gold colour, and from where he stands beside the transport, Obi-Wan can see Ahsoka and Anakin bickering over where to put the last tent while Rex, Cody, and the other clones watch in amused fascination. 

He can see Waxer and Boil starting a campfire despite the sun not having set yet, while Crys, Barlex, and Gearshift evenly split the rations they'd brought along for themselves. Rex looks slightly out of place in his blue armor, but only in appearance—he's chatting comfortably with Cody now, despite being the only member of the 501st who'd come to the Stewjoni surface. He, Anakin, and Ahsoka are practically attached at the hip anyway, so no one can say they're not surprised, least of all Obi-Wan. 

But Obi-Wan's focus is not on their measly campsite, nor on his lack of blanket for the night, because all he can think about at present is the blasted gravball court, the shout of his name from two rotations ago, and what Anakin had told him earlier. 

_We sort of already found one_ , Anakin had said.

 _Two, actually,_ Ahsoka had put in.

Force, Obi-Wan thinks as he runs a hand through his hair, why did the Council have to choose him for this mission? He'd purposefully opted out of the expected trip to one's homeworld that almost every newly knighted Jedi takes. But they are stretched thin because of this Force-forsaken war, and so here Obi-Wan is, on a planet he has never once planned to come back to. 

Until now, at least. 

And those names—Oden-Ru and Nessa—that had slipped out of the Senator's mouth hadn't stopped turning themselves over in Obi-Wan's tumultuous mind. They're his parents, they have to be, and they're somewhere in this city. Briefly, Obi-Wan wonders if he looks like them, and who he looks like more. Maybe he has his father's face, his mother's hair. Or some other combination of them he hasn't imagined.

Then there are his eyes. Obi-Wan has always known his eyes are rather unique by some standards, but he's never really cared, no matter how many times people point out that particular feature. He blinks, more than once, thinking of his own murky mixture of blue and grey compared to the green eyes he's seen on almost everyone here, starting with the woman who'd been decidedly rude to him on the first day. 

He's so deep in thought he barely registers the light tap on his shoulder. It's what Ahsoka does when she's trying to get his attention, like she knows he's being introspective and doesn't want to pull him back to reality too harshly—but when Obi-Wan turns around, it's not Ahsoka he finds. 

It's a girl, around the same age as his Grand Padawan, but of much smaller stature and far less attitude. She's looking at Obi-Wan expectantly; in her arms is a standard military issue blanket, the same as the ones they'd given out earlier. 

"You're a Jedi, right?" the girl asks, and Obi-Wan feels a flash of something like reminiscence—not from himself, but from the girl.

"Yes, I am," he replies, shrugging off this sudden, unintentional reading he'd done and composing himself. "How may I help you?" 

The girl looks rather surprised by this question—perhaps she's not used to propriety—but quickly gathers herself. Obi-Wan can't help but think that Ahsoka could learn something from this Stewjoni girl, who after a moment holds out the blanket in her arms and mutters, "My sister took two on accident. I... felt bad, not returning it." 

Obi-Wan stares at the blanket, then looks back up at the girl. "Did you walk all the way here just to bring it back, young one?" 

A flush rises to the girl's cheeks, which Obi-Wan notices with a start are quite heavily freckled. The girl shrugs and averts her eyes; Obi-Wan can't help but relate to her. "My house isn't far from here," she replies. "And I like the outdoors." She clears her throat. "S-sir." 

"No need for titles," Obi-Wan admonishes gently. "What's your name, young one?" 

"Caela," she replies immediately. "Caela K—" 

"Hey — Caela!" 

Obi-Wan turns around to see Ahsoka running towards the two of them. She stops beside Obi-Wan and grins widely at Caela. 

"Ahsoka, have you met Caela before?" Obi-Wan asks, raising an eyebrow at the way Ahsoka suddenly starts fidgeting. 

"Um, yes, Master," she answers. "We, uh, met earlier. At the court across the street. I didn't think—" she suddenly stops, her eyes moving down. She's staring at Caela's shoulder, like there's a bomb about to blow perched on it. 

No: she's staring at something _beyond_ Caela's shoulder. 

"Well," Caela says hastily, shoving the blanket into Obi-Wan's hands, "I've got to go. My mum wants me back in time for dinner." She started to turn around, her blue jersey rippling in the evening breeze.

"Wait!" Ahsoka suddenly shouts, going very pale, but it's too late. 

Caela turns back towards the two of them, raising an eyebrow, but Obi-Wan is frozen. 

He feels like he's been blasted with carbon and made into a wall decoration, and from the slightly guilty way Ahsoka is looking at him, Obi-Wan realizes: this is one of the family members she and Anakin were talking about.

The last thing Obi-Wan thinks before he turns and walks away is that he's never been more afraid in his life. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! kudos and comments are always appreciated <3


	4. velocity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two names are remembered, Obi-Wan tries to forget, and Ahsoka attempts to mediate, to no avail.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ve·loc·i·ty • /vəˈläsədē/  
>  _noun_  
>  1\. the speed of something in a given direction.

Caela is seriously starting to regret returning the blanket. 

Sure, it's hardly dark outside yet, and the Jedi seem nice enough—but Stars, she can see the Togruta girl from where she's standing and for some reason, it's making her nervous. 

Trying to stop heat from blooming on her cheeks, Caela tries to focus on the Jedi in front of her, who's just asked for her name. Staying silent, no matter how frazzled she is, would be rude, so she clears her throat and says, "Caela. Caela K—" 

"Hey—Caela!"

Oh, no, no, _no_. 

Barely registering her surroundings, Caela averts her gaze and focuses on the taller Jedi's boots. The man asks something, and he says a name— _Ahsoka_. It shouldn't make Caela's cheeks flame any more than they already have, but it does. Ignoring the fluttery feeling in her chest, Caela shoves the blanket into the man's arms and sharply turns around.

She doesn't stop when Ahsoka calls for her to wait, but when the other Jedi lets out a strangled gasp, Caela can't help but turn around. 

Staring at the man, she raises an eyebrow at the funny sense of Déjà Vu she gets from looking at him. Before Caela can focus on it, however, the man is turning and walking away, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. 

"What—" Caela starts, and Ahsoka crosses her arms across her chest. 

"Obi-Wan!" she calls, before saying something else that doesn't quite reach Caela's ears. 

_Obi-Wan._

That name. "I know that name," Caela hears herself breathe as her surroundings fall away and replace themselves with dim, fuzzy memories. Memories of the family tree, staring at the very name she'd just heard, embroidered just underneath that of her grandmother and in between her father and her uncle. Memories of squinting at an old holoprojector, wondering why the flickering blue light held four children when Caela only recognized three. 

But those _eyes_. She's seen them before—seen them every time she looks into a mirror, every time her grandfather comes to visit.

She almost scoffs to herself when this thought pierces her mind like a needle. Grey eyes like her own are fairly uncommon around these parts—but not unheard of. 

That doesn't explain why the man who is currently walking away from where Caela is standing shares the name of her uncle. Who, granted, Caela has never really cared about enough to ask many questions. It's always Eitaa who insists on knowing everything, on being a part of all the grownup conversations. It was Eitaa who'd managed to wheedle the truth out of their grandmother, and Eitaa who'd whispered said truth to Caela late at night in the darkness of their shared bedroom.

 _Nana said he's a Jedi,_ she'd hissed with wide eyes. _She said he had magical powers, so they took him away to keep him safe._

 _Safe from what?_ Caela had asked incredulously at the time. Now, she thinks she knows, what with the galaxy-wide war tearing the Republic apart at its seams. 

"Caela?" 

She blinks. Ahsoka is waving a hand in front of her eyes. 

"Sorry," she forces out. "I, um, got distracted." 

"You said you know that name?" 

Something in Ahsoka's expression is apprehensive. Caela swallows the bile in her throat and glances back at the man— _Obi-Wan_ —before nodding. "Yeah," she answers, trying to sound unbothered. "What's... what's his family name?" 

It could be Caela's annoyingly hopeful imagination, but she thinks she feels Ahsoka drift slightly closer, as though to keep their conversation as secret as possible, between the two of them. When she opens her mouth, though, the light-hearted feeling promptly disappears and Caela feels her hands shake like they do when she's nervous, because Ahsoka _did not just say that, no way, it can’t be._

"I'm—I'm sorry?" she asks, frowning, hoping against hope that maybe she misheard, but—

"Kenobi," Ahsoka says again, and this time Caela hears a slight tremor, something like the fear she'd always just assumed Jedi were immune to. 

Apparently not. 

"That's your name, too, right?" Ahsoka aska tentatively. "I saw it on your jersey." She gestures to Caela's shoulder. 

Closing her eyes, Caela wonders why she suddenly feels cold and warm at the same time, why she's wishing for no reason at all that she just had a cloak or an overtunic, anything to hide this stupid— _stupid_ —jersey and get her out of this fiasco. Or, better yet, this _situation_ that has the potential to be a fiasco. 

"Right," Caela mumbles; a hand comes to rest on her shoulder, but the expected flushed cheeks and jittery stomach don't come. "That's... that's my family name." She hugs her arms to her chest. "I should go. My mum's really strict about—" 

"Did your mother ever speak of a brother?" Ahsoka asks, and Caela opens her eyes to see the girl frowning, not at her but at the thoughts evidently turning themselves over her in her mind. 

"No," Caela says quickly. She spares a glance at the campfire behind her, and thinks she sees someone watching her, but her gaze is back on Ahsoka before she can stop it. "My dad did, though." She pauses. Takes a deep breath. "Well, really it was my grandmother, because I don't think my dad likes to—" 

"Hold on," Ahsoka interjects. "What did your grandmother _say_ about your uncle?" 

"Why do _you_ care?" Caela asks tightly, then feels a stab of guilt. She sounds like Eitaa... but it's too late to take it back now. 

"Because I need to know if that man—" Ahsoka spins Caela around by the shoulders and points to the campfire, where Obi-Wan Kenobi sits with his back to them, "—is your uncle." 

"Wouldn't _he_ be the one who needs to know?" Caela asks, vaguely aware that she sounds rather evasive, but this is the last thing she's equipped to deal with, really. 

"Well, yeah," Ahsoka says, "but wouldn't _you_ want to know, too?" 

━━━━━━

"Cody," Anakin hisses, and the trooper turns to him, setting down the tent pole he's been working on balancing in the ground. "Why is she here?" He jabs his thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of Ahsoka and the auburn-haired girl. Ahsoka's back is to him, but from where Anakin is kneeling on the grass to set up his tent, he can feel a series of strong emotions radiating off of her vibrant presence. 

"That, sir," Cody begins matter-of-factly, lowering his voice, "would be a question you'd have to ask the girl, not me." 

Anakin rolls his eyes. "No, I mean—does Obi-Wan know who she is?" 

For a moment, Cody ponders this. He's likely thinking of the name on the girl's jersey, just like Anakin is, and it's most likely that neither of them know the answer to Anakin's question. 

"Yes, Anakin," says a cut-glass voice from behind him. Anakin nearly topples into Cody trying to stand up. Obi-Wan has put the blanket back in his own tent, which is already pitched. He raises an eyebrow, looking exasperated as usual but more overwhelmed than Anakin would like to admit he's familiar with. "I do, in fact, know who she is." Obi-Wan pauses. "Or at least, I have an idea." 

"Well, come on!" Anakin urges, wiping dirt off of his palms. He begins to pull Obi-Wan in Ahsoka's direction, but the older man stays firmly put, avoiding Anakin's eyes. 

Obi-Wan, of course, tries to give excuses. "No, I'm afraid it's not my place—" 

"That's the worst lie I've ever heard," Anakin says, choosing to ignore Obi-Wan's listless sigh and instead turning away to cup both hands around his mouth. "Ahsoka! C'mere!" 

Almost immediately, Ahsoka nods and grabs the girl by her hand (something Anakin makes a mental note to ask his apprentice about later), leading her over to where Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Cody are standing. Out of the corner of his eye, Anakin can see several troopers discreetly watching this exchange while Rex tries to quiet their whispering. He ignores them. 

When Ahsoka stops in front of Anakin, the girl lets go of her hand as quick as lightning, a blush hiding her freckles. Anakin studies her and instantly decides that out of every long-lost relative of Obi-Wan's this mission could have introduced them to, this girl is one of the better ones—despite her strange aversion to eye contact and tendency to hide behind Ahsoka. Very shy, then, just like Master Qui-Gon had once said Obi-Wan was as a child. 

It occurs to Anakin that they're standing in silence; Ahsoka and Cody have drifted closer to each other and farther away from the group, evidently feeling like intruders of some sort. Anakin hasn't moved from Obi-Wan's side, but Obi-Wan has moved from his, and is now looking very much like he wants to politely excuse himself and then bolt into the nearest entrance to the forest.

And the girl—the girl is pale, dangerously so, looking like her world view has shifted in a matter of moments. Anakin supposes he can't blame her. 

"You're a Jedi," the girl finally blurts, then snaps her mouth shut and flushes a deeper shade of crimson. 

"Yes," Obi-Wan replies; his demeanour seems to have changed to something more relaxed but still apprehensive. "And you are..." 

"Not a Jedi," the girl says decisively, "but I'm sure you knew that already." 

"That seems to be the only thing I know about you," Obi-Wan points out. 

Tentatively, Anakin extends his presence in the Force and brushes it against Obi-Wan's. Almost immediately, Obi-Wan's shields fly up, and Anakin takes that as all the signal he needs.

"Well!" he exclaims brightly. "Ahsoka, Cody needs help setting up the tents." He shoots Cody a look that says _don't you dare deny it,_ and the commander seems to understand. 

"Come on, kid," Cody says promptly. "Let's go see if Rex can't help us out, either." He sets off, and Ahsoka takes one look at Obi-Wan and the girl before flouncing away, nodding for Anakin to follow. 

They walk away into the steadily fading daylight, and it takes all of Anakin's effort not to look over his shoulder. 

━━━━━━

Fear should not feel this way. 

It should not feel like a chill running down his arms, or the tang of metal in his mouth. It should not make his heart beat with a speed that suggests he's running, when really he's standing more still than he ever has in his life, staring at this skeptical and equally nervous teenage girl who—

Who is his _family_. 

"Obi-Wan," Caela says, as though testing the name out, then looks up at him. Her eyes have dimmed with determination. "Your name is Obi-Wan, right?" 

Dimly, he remembers Ahsoka calling his name as he'd walked away earlier. That, Obi-Wan decides, cannot be the only reason Caela knows his name. Slowly, he nods, then holds out his hand. "Obi-Wan Kenobi." 

The hesitant smile this brings makes Obi-Wan feels significantly light as the girl shakes his hand. " _Caela_ Kenobi." She shrugs. "Or just Caela." 

"Do you..." Obi-Wan almost reaches up to stroke his beard, then stops himself. "Do you happen to know how we are related?" He searches her eyes. "Or—are we _not_ related? I suppose Kenobi can be a common name—"

"We're the only Kenobi family around here," Caela replies. "And yes, I do know." Her smile widens, and she says two simple but weighted words in a hurried manner. "Paternal uncle—if I'm not mistaken." 

Oh. 

_Oh._

"Which would mean your father," Obi-Wan pieces together, "is—" 

"Your brother," Caela supplies. She draws in a deep breath. "You don't look all that much alike, though..." Caela trails off, and Obi-Wan gets the distinct impression that there's something she's not telling him—something she's thinking but doesn't quite know how to say.

"I... I'm sorry," Obi-Wan hears himself say, and Caela raises an eyebrow. 

"Whatever for?" 

He opens his mouth, then realizes with a start he doesn't quite know what he's apologizing for, either. It's more of a feeling—but Obi-Wan has no idea how to articulate it, how to tell this girl just how sorry he is for throwing this situation on her shoulders. 

He swallows the bile in his throat and stares determinedly at the ground, wishing the silence would give, wishing Caela would just _say_ something. But she, too, seems lost for words. 

"My mum..." she starts suddenly, sounding strained, "She'll get worried if I don't return home soon." 

"Yes," Obi-Wan agrees, wondering why he feels so relieved. "Yes, it's—it's getting late. You should go." 

"It was nice to meet you," Caela says, beginning to turn away, then adds, "Obi-Wan." 

Her back is facing him now; the girl retreats, growing farther away, her auburn hair darkening with the setting sun. Obi-Wan's eyes land on the word printed between her shoulder blades again— _Kenobi_ —and his heart jumps into his throat. 

This is the part where he leaves. If he follows, he walks the path to attachment, so—this is the part where he turns around and walks back down his own path. It is only fair. 

"Where are you going?" asks an accusatory voice—Ahsoka's voice. His Grand Padawan is standing just shy of his right shoulder, crossing her arms with her gaze on Caela. 

Caela, who has stopped walking, whose shoulders have tensed as though trying to convince her not to turn around, despite how desperately she appears to want to.

"Home," Caela says simply. 

The word shouldn't hurt as much as it does. Home—home is the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, home is his quarters on the _Negotiator,_ home is Anakin and Ahsoka and Rex and Cody. Home is not this peaceful, breezy mining planet, whose people are still recovering from a Separatist blockade, and who most definitely don't want the Jedi to linger.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replies, hating how painfully repetitive he sounds. “Yes. I’m sure your parents wouldn’t want you to—” 

“Caela! There you are!” 

He does not freeze this time. 

This time, he recognizes the voice. It is that of a woman, one he’s heard before. Thankfully, it’s familiar and recent enough for Obi-Wan to realize who spoke in less than an instant. 

The brown-haired, green-eyed woman is storming through the camp, furious but still apprehensive. The clones—along with Anakin and Ahsoka—all back away as the woman approaches. 

She is tall, lean, and muscular, with short brown hair and piercing, humourless green eyes. In short, she and her daughter look nothing alike—and by now Obi-Wan has realized that this the woman who he’d given rations to on the first day.

Obi-Wan’s fear evaporates, turns into relief, makes him feel reckless and reclusive and curious all at the same time. He wonders if the woman recognizes him from his first day here, and if she’s realized who _he_ is. 

She most likely hasn’t, says Obi-Wan’s decisively logical side. He can’t tell which question that thought is an answer to. 

“Mum!” Caela exclaims as the woman approaches. “Mum, I’m so sorry—” 

“It’s fine,” bristles Caela’s mother. She glances at Obi-Wan, then back at her daughter. “Come on. Dad made dinner and he us all to eat together before it gets cold.” 

Looking a little guilty, Caela’s mother leads her down the path. 

Neither of them look back—but Obi-Wan almost wishes they would, because even when he’s tucked away in the tent he’s sharing with Anakin, curled up on his bedroll with nothing to think about besides the aching in his chest and the chirping of animals in the nearby forest, the pit of disappointment in Obi-Wan’s stomach doesn’t go away. 

━━━━━━

Darkness comes during the walk home, sinking into the still neighbourhood like a fog. Caela drifts closer to her mother’s side just as Nessa pulls out a glowrod, flicking the switch to light their way. 

The realization of how quiet their surroundings are hits Caela after a few minutes, when the sounds of laughing clone troopers fade, and they’re far enough away from the Republic campground that Caela can no longer see the tents. 

It’s not surprising—everything is quieter on stewjon during the springtime. Despite the darkness, Caela can see squished flower petals under her shoes, all shades of white and pink and yellow. The air is not warm, but not cold, either. The usual breeze, like everything else during the spring, seems to have come to a screeching halt.

It feels achingly familiar. 

“So,” Nessa starts over the soft sound of their footsteps, “What were you doing out there? it doesn’t take half an hour to return a blanket.” 

Caela feels herself shrug one shoulder. “just talking to the Jedi.” She tugs anxiously at her braid. “You know, thanking them and stuff.” 

“That was nice of you,” Nessa replies, making a right turn onto their street. There are old footprints in the older duracrete, and Caela follows them with her feet, stepping into each one as she walks.

The prints are gigantic compared to her own—but Caela has been walking this way for longer than she can remember.

“Eitaa said you made a friend,” Nessa says suddenly, and Caela feels her heart skip a beat. 

A _friend_ —Caela doesn’t know Ahsoka well enough to call her that. An acquaintance, maybe? 

No. That sounds too formal. 

“Yeah,” Caela blurts to quiet her thoughts. “She’s a Jedi.” 

_Nana said he’s a Jedi._

“Sounds exciting,” Nessa comments mildly as they approach the front door. “Did you meet any other interesting people?” 

_She said he had magical powers, so they took him away to keep him safe._

“Well, um,” Caela says, hoping to soften the blow with a dash of uncertainty, “If—if you call meeting Dad’s brother _interesting,_ then… yes.”

_Safe from what?_

She thinks she knows, now. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, anakin's expression while he observes the conversation is identical to the one he gives bo-katan in season 7, if you were wondering. 
> 
> i exist [here](https://viszlasaber.tumblr.com/) on tumblr if you want to come chat/yell about the clone wars with me!


End file.
